Silence speaks, and stars converse:
'Tis eons between gasps of universal breaths, a carousel of fathomless whys beyond reason.
The owl who hears the galaxy blink amidst hours untold has gathered the souls in a midnight basket woven from comet trails.
Beyond, in spots of starlight rests nothing—a noble void, patiently waiting.
I found echoes wrapped in dusty tapestries, forsaken secrets whispered by galaxies who have existed before dreams learned to cast their light.
A 870-Year Meteoroid's barter, a story unmoved yet moving, betwixt ancient travelers lost and longing.
Does the nebula know your name while it sketches your thoughts among stardust patterns? Or does it simply forget?
An enigma suspended in a gas tank with whispers of logic untethered from comprehension.